Mending Fences
by reba
Summary: Joe discovers a new talent, and Adam realizes that his youngest brother is growing up.


Disclaimer:  I own nothing, I claim no ownership, I have no way of making money on this…please…please don't sue.  Just borrowing the characters for my own fun and amusement.  No one was actually hurt in the writing of this fiction. Well, my fingers got a little sore.  Have fun reading.  Like or not, please review.  Thank you

Mending Fences

The ground and sky changed positions in a blur of movement, and then Joe landed hard on his back, his breath leaving him in a rush.  Billows of dust obscured him from the anxious observers.

His observers consisted of his big brother, Adam, and Clem, the senior ranch hand on the Ponderosa payroll.  Hearing Joe's cough, Adam wasn't as concerned about his fourteen-year-old brother as he had been moments before when the stallion had tossed the boy skyward.  Clem had already ducked under the top rail and was busy backing the black horse toward the opposite fence and away from little Joe.  Clem's shouts and arm waves had the horse skittering away from the prone figure.

Joe rolled over and was on his hands and knees, still coughing, when Adam reached him.

"Hey, little brother.  Nice ride."  Adam's concern made his tone harsh, his words sounded sarcastic rather than complementary.  He held out his hand, and Joe grasped his forearm and pulled himself to his feet.  Adam handed him his hat, and Joe jammed it on his head and brushed at the dust coating his shirt and pants.

"Joe.  You all right?"  Adam's voice was soft now, and he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Yeah.  I guess I still have a lot to learn, huh?"  Joe's eyes were downcast.

"Well.  It was your first ride, and you did keep your seat for over a minute.  I'd say that's pretty good."  Joe looked up, and Adam smiled at his brother's dusty face.  Joe flashed him a return grin, teeth white against his skin, dark with dirt and summer tan. 

Clem had corralled the unbroken horse with the rest and returned in time to hear Adam's comment.  He added.  "Care to go again, little Joe?  I'll get him set up for ya."

Adam glared at his foreman, but Clem just smiled.  He had known Adam for twelve years, since he was Joe's age, and Adam couldn't intimidate him.  He respected the young man, but he wasn't afraid of him.

Joe was nodding eagerly, but he had also caught the silent exchange between Adam and Clem.  He began talking quickly, hoping to persuade his older brother.  "Adam.  You said that you'd teach me, and you said that the only way that you learned—really learned, was by doing.  You just have to let me ride more than once today.  I need the practice, right?  You told Pa that you would need all the help you could get to make the Union contract—I want to help you."

He stopped when Adam raised his hand.

"Joe.  I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you're not ready to help break horses for the Army.  This contract will help us pay winter wages for the hands, and these broncs need to be ready in six weeks."

"I know that I'm not ready to help now, Adam."  Joe interrupted impatiently.  "But I want to be ready for next fall's contract.  I know that you'll get it."  He finished, utterly confident in his brother's business acumen.  

Adam smiled as he studied his youngest brother.  Joe looked back at him with a serious gaze.  Joe's light brown hair, made darker by perspiration and dust, curled from under his hat.  He looked impossibly young for this, Adam thought.   Yet he was getting taller; he'd grown three inches in the last two months, and he was now as long legged as a half-grown colt.  He looked too thin, as well.  But Adam knew that Joe was strong.  His whipcord body was well muscled for a lad.  Joe looked at him, and Adam could see the wordless pleading in his large green eyes, eyes set off by the thick dark curling lashes and well shaped eyebrows.  Joe had been a beautiful baby; now, his features were almost too pretty for a boy, and Adam knew that he would grow to be a handsome man.  Adam sighed.  He knew that he was going to agree.  Against his better judgment, he was going to agree and let the boy ride again.  Joe was so much like Marie, especially his expressive eyes, and the older that he got, the more he resembled his Ma.  Just like Joe, Marie could get Adam to do whatever she wanted him to do.

"All right…"  Adam began, but he was interrupted by Joe's whoop of delight and Clem's slap on his back.

Adam crossed his arms and waited until they quieted down.

"Joe.  This time, I want you to keep your knees tight against him.  He'll tell you through your legs which way he's going to jump next.  With enough practice, you'll get better at reading each mount."

Joe's eyes were riveted on Adam's and bright with excitement and hero worship.  His brother was the best, and he wanted to be just like him.  

At Adam's nod, Clem brought the big black into position and Adam checked the cinch, tightening it slightly.  Tense now, Joe waited on the top rail of the pen until Clem had the stallion enclosed.

"O.K., Joe, he's ready for ya."  Clem watched nervously as Joe eased himself on the horse's back.  He whispered.  "Remember what your brother said, 'tighten your grip' and try ta see where he's gonna take ya."

Joe nodded once at the older man, and gathered the leather in his left hand, winding it around in the pattern Adam showed him.  His hand was already sore, but he wouldn't complain; Adam might use the fact that he'd forgotten his gloves as an excuse to ban him from the corral today.  He didn't think that his big brother had noticed yet.

Adam leaned over the top rail to check his grip and the lacing.  He patted Joe's back.  "He's all set, Clem."

"Tell me when you're ready, Joe."  Clem was very nervous at this point, the point before the small pen was opened and the horse had room to move.  Today though, he was especially wary.  He swallowed, his throat dry.  He knew that Ben Cartwright had agreed to let Joe begin bronc busting, but he also knew that Mr. Cartwright would be very upset if little Joe got hurt.  He was glad that Adam was there.  Joe's voice broke into his thoughts.

"O.K., Clem.  Let him out."  Joe said firmly.

"Good luck, lad."  With that, Clem swung open the gate.  The stallion erupted, plunging in a side-winding fashion across the corral, bucking straight up and down in teeth-jarring jolts.  Occasionally, though, the black monster would throw in a twist.  His neck would reach halfway between his forelegs while his back hooves would flash first to the right and then to the left.  Joe stuck with him; once, he was almost unseated when the big black horse tried to do what looked like a headstand.  

Adam and Clem alternated between yelling encouragement and holding their breath at they watched the youngest Cartwright ride.  After a tense few minutes, Clem grinned at Adam.  The bosses eldest was trying (not to successfully, Clem thought) to contain his pride in his youngest brother's new found ability.  Clem thought that he could see Adam's buttons on that black shirt strain a little as he puffed out his chest.  Adam nodded back at Clem's raised eyebrows as if to say, 'that's my brother, all right'.

They watched little Joe ride the black for another twelve minutes.  Finally, Adam signaled Clem into the corral when the great horse stood still, head down and sides heaving, forelegs trembling.  Joe slid off as Clem attached the lead rope to the black's bridle and started to lead the exhausted horse toward the larger corral that held the rest of the herd.

"Wait, Clem."  Joe's voice shook a little, and Adam saw that the ride had also wearied his little brother.  Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out some lumps of sugar.  He ran a shaking hand down the black's ebony mane and then held the sugar flat in his right palm. 

The stallion snorted, and then lipped the sugar.  Joe patted his neck, smiling tiredly; his lips moving as he whispered to the big black.

Adam and Clem were shocked to see the black gently prod Joe's waist, nudging him.  Joe laughed and produced another cube.  This time, he stood away and the black walked to him, neatly plucking the sugar from the boy's palm.  He bent his head and allowed Joe to scratch him between his ears.  Joe chuckled, his eyes sparkling with delight as he talked softly to the horse.

Clem scratched his head as he approached Adam.  "I aint never seen a green-broke horse relax that fast—not for no one, Adam."

"Neither have I."

They watched as Joe led the tired beast to the connecting gate and released him to join the rest of the half-tame herd.

"I swear, Adam.  I ain't got no idea what to tell your Pa.  I think I'd have ta see this myself ta believe it."

Adam nodded.  He was looking at his baby brother for what felt like the first time.  Was that a fluke?  Or was Joseph Cartwright a natural-born bronc buster?  He realized that he was grinning stupidly, almost gawking at his younger brother's back.  Clem guffawed at his goofy expression and slapped his hand against his thigh.  "Don't think I  'ave ever seen ya speechless, Adam, but I can't say as I blame ya."  

They were standing outside the small corral now, still eyeing the boy.  Joe was hanging on the far fence, looking at the herd.  The black had joined them briefly, but had now made his way back to the adjoining rails and was standing quietly near the boy.

"I declare, Adam.  I don't know what to make of it, but I think ya'd best let him try another and see how he does."

Adam slowly shook his head.  "I need to ride to the north pasture and help the crew repair that fence…and Joe has his chores waiting at the house."

Joe was sauntering toward them now.  He looked incredibly happy, and Adam regretted that his words would wipe that expression off his brother's face.  He waited until Joe began to climb the near rail and then said reluctantly.  "We need to go now, little buddy.  But that was an unbelievable ride.  I'm proud of you."  He smiled fondly at Joe.

"Adam!  I just got started!  Please…Just one more?"

"No.  The fence needs mending, too.  I've been here too long already."

Joe seized what he perceived to be a loophole, and a chance to continue riding.  "Wait, Adam.  Clem's still here.  He'll stay and give me pointers, won't ya, Clem?"  Joe turned on Clem, flashing the full wattage of his boyish charm.

'Clem doesn't stand a chance.' Adam thought wryly.  'Neither do I'

"Well, little Joe.  I wouldn't mind helping ya.  But I can't go against your brother nor your Pa."

"Clem!  Pa said it was all right for me to be here today.  Right, Adam?"

Now, both Clem and little Joe turned to Adam.  The eldest Cartwright brother sighed heavily and closed his eyes.  He was suddenly very tired.

"All right, Joe…"

"Oh Adam!  You're the best!"

"Joe…listen to me now."

Joe stopped his little dance around the bemused Clem and stood quietly in front of Adam.

"You can ride until you get thrown.  One throw."  Adam waggled his index finger in front of Joe's eyes.  "Only one throw, and today's lesson is done.  Understand?"  Adam's serious tone and stern eyes encompassed not only his impetuous young brother but also Clem.  He waited until he saw them each nod—Clem quickly, and Joe reluctantly.

He knew that Clem would send Joe back to the house when he was unseated.  Clem understood the dangers; he'd seen men killed by a wild mount.  If Joe understood, Adam had yet to see any sign of it.  He sighed again as he swung up on Sport.  Time to mend fence.  "See you at home, squirt."

"Bye, Adam!"

"Make sure that you get your chores done as soon as Clem sends you back to the yard."  Adam called over his shoulder as he cantered away.  "And be careful" He whispered to himself, knowing that Joe would resent his babying him in front of Clem.  The foreman would watch out for the boy, and he would follow Adam's directive to the letter.  These thoughts comforted him as he rode out toward the upper pasture.

Adam was dirty and cranky.   He and the men and worked non-stop, but the ground was rock-hard in places, and it had taken far longer than they had anticipated for them to dig the necessary postholes.  He had managed to string wire over the planned distance, but, because of the extra time spent, he was arriving home late for supper.  Pa hated that.  Adam sighed as he pumped water onto his bandanna.  He scrubbed his face and arms, and then washed his hands hurriedly, sluicing water over his head and combing his fingers through his hair.  He was starving, and, briefly, he wondered again how Joe had done today.  When he looked around the year, he noticed, with growing irritation, that Joe's chores weren't done.  That boy!  When would he learn to be responsible?

He growled to himself, muttering what he would do to his little brother when he caught up with him.  All the yard chores for a week.  That sounded fair.

"Adam!  Where have you been?"

Pa looked more worried than irritated, Adam thought.  He and Hoss were sitting at the table; their meal half eaten.

Ben looked at his eldest.  "Well?"

Adam heaved a sigh and explained about the hard ground and how slow it went.  He wondered why his Pa kept looking past him, over his shoulder toward the front door.

Ben interrupted him.  "Son…Where is Joseph?  Did he go with you?  Is he still in the barn tending Cochise?"

Adam's stomach clenched.  "He's not back yet?  He should have been here hours ago…"  His expression hardened.  He could just imagine Joe wheedling Clem into another ride, then yet another.  That little sneak!  He had a good mind to tan his hide for him.

"No, Pa.  He wasn't with me.  He stayed with Clem.  I'll go and fetch him.  He has some explaining to do."

Adam's angry tone caused Hoss to flinch a little.  Ben placed a hand on his middle son's forearm.  "Adam.  Just bring him to supper.  We'll all discuss the reason why he's late."

"Yeah, brother, maybe he has a good excuse?"  Hoss's voice rose hopefully.

Adam snorted.  "Don't worry, Pa.  I know right where the little scamp is.  We'll be back shortly."

He had to stop himself from slamming the front door.  He was hungry and tired, and now, he was mad.  That imp!  He knew that the boy could wrap Clem around his little finger, and he knew Joe had done just that.  Adam quickly saddled Sport and galloped out of the yard, heading for the horse pasture to the south.  They'd built it by the far bunkhouse, about a mile from the barn's south side.  There, the horse breaking could happen in peaceful surroundings without the distracting bustle that sometimes filled the main yard.

Adam's stomach growled and he loudly imitated his innards as he now saw Clem sitting on the rail, watching Joe ride a mustang.  Clem turned toward him when he heard the tattoo of hooves on the hard dirt path leading to the ranch.

Clem's smile of welcome disappeared when he spied Adam's dark countenance.  "Clem!  Why didn't you do what I told you?  Why didn't you send him home?  I thought that I was very clear…"

Adam stopped abruptly and dismounted when Clem frowned and turned his back on him.  He walked up to the rail alongside of the older man and watched Joe finish the ride.  Adam counted to ten, trying to rein in his temper, and then turned his attention to his current problem—Joseph Francis Cartwright.

Joe had ridden the bronc to a standstill, and then slid off the side of the tired animal.  Adam's anger increased when he saw his brother stumble a little.  The kid was dead on his feet.

"Hey!  Adam!"  Joe was grinning.  Adam saw that he was beyond dirty now.  His hair and clothes were caked with the fine gray dust of the corral, and, of course, horsehair, a lot of horsehair.  His eyes and around his mouth remained fairly clear of the grit, but Adam knew that Joe would be spending a long time in the bath house to remove today's dirt.

"Adam?"  Joe faltered.  He knew his brother's moods, and Adam was in a foul one now.

"**_Little boy_**.  You get your horse and come on.  You are late for supper, and you have made me late as well.  You're in for a correction from Pa—and I'm just about mad enough to add a trip to the woodshed for you too, courtesy of your big brother."

Joe's face reddened in embarrassment, and he cut his eyes over to Clem.  The older man had heard every word.  Joe opened his mouth to argue, but at Clem's headshake, he clenched his jaw.  He looked up at Adam, and seeing the anger in his face, his shoulders slumped, and he went into the shed where Cochise was bedded.

As soon as he disappeared inside, Clem rounded on Adam.  Adam backed up a step.  He'd never seen Clem so angry.  "Mr. Cartwright!  You just about accused me of disobeying an order here.  I won't take that!  Not from you, nor from your Pa!  The boy and I did just what ya said…"

Adam interrupted him.  "I said to send him home.."

"When he fell, Adam.  He hasn't.  You get it?  He hasn't.  Not once.  I ain't never seen such a string of rides."  Clem's angry gaze captured his.  "And all this afternoon…All I heard is 'Adam this' and 'Adam that'.  That boy idolizes you, son.  He just knew ya'd be so happy to see what he'd done today.  But you ride up here talkin' trash to him…"

Adam raised his hands in surrender.  "How many?"

Clem snapped.  "How many what?"

"How many…did he ride?"

"That thar mustang was seventeen.  He's rode seventeen."

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah.  Like I said, I ain't never seen the like—he's a natural, Adam.  He's better than most I've seen."  Clem's eyes took on a far-away gaze.  "Adam.  I can't hardly imagine how good he's gonna be when he's growd.  Your Pa's gonna be pleased as punch—"  His smile dissolved when he turned to Adam.  "But I'm still mad at you. Layin inta us like that.  You had no cause, Adam."

"You're right, Clem.  Please—accept my apology.  I just assumed you'd been.."

"Disobeyin' an order from the boss?"  Clem said indignantly.

"NO! No, Clem.  I just assumed you'd fallen prey to Joe.  He can be very persuasive in his quest to get what he wants."

"I'll…allow that's true enough.  But, Adam, what that boy wants more than anythin' is your respect.  He longs ta be just like ya."  At Adam's startled look, Clem added softly. "I guess ya didn't know that?  Yeah.  I can see that ya didn't."  He patted Adam's shoulder.  "Ya got a fence ta mend here, too, Adam.  I'll leave ya to it."  Clem smiled sadly and pushed Adam gently in the direction of the shed.

'And I get on Joe for shooting off his mouth.'  Adam grimaced. 'I guess I know now where he gets that tendency.'

He stood in the shed's doorway watching Joe.  He had saddled Cochise, but was just standing there, leaning really, against the painted pony.  Adam realized that Joe's shoulders were shaking and that got his feet moving.  He came up behind the boy and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, little brother…"  Joe stiffened, but did not pull away from him.  Encouraged, Adam continued.  "Forgive me?  I shot my mouth off first and asked questions later—I guess I really messed up today."

Joe's muscles loosened a little under Adam's hands.  "Can you forgive me, Joe?  Clem really set me straight out there…"

Joe turned toward him, and Adam hugged him close, resting his chin on the boy's head.  He could feel his own eyes begin to tear up at his brother's obvious distress.  Joe shook, gulping as he tried to stop his tears.

"Oh, Adam.  I wish that you'd been here.  I wanted you to see—and then when you came, you were so mad!"

Adam gave Joe a gentle squeeze and whispered.  "I'm sorry, buddy.  I am very proud of you, and Clem is too.  I heard about your day.   I wish that I could have been here, too.  And I wish I hadn't said what I did, Joe."

Joe sniffed, hiccupping a little, his breath hitching in his throat. He whispered.  "I know that I'm late.  Is Pa really mad?"  He stepped back from Adam and lifted his tear-stained, dirty face to look at his brother.

"Oh, Joe.  Pa will understand.  Come on.  Let's go home."

Joe turned and took a step toward Cochise, and Adam saw how much he was favoring his right leg.  "Joe.  Are you hurt?  What's wrong with your leg?"   Concerned, Adam stepped close to the boy.

"I'm O.K.  That last mustang tried to brush me off.."

"Against the fence?  Let me see it."  Adam made as if to do just that. 

"No!  No, Adam.  I'm not going to drop my pants here.  You can look at it at home, O.K?"

"All right, buddy.  Why don't you ride double with me back to the house?  I don't think that you'll be able to get that leg into Cochise's stirrup.  It's pretty stiff, huh?"

Joe nodded.  Adam could see that the boy was ready to drop from exhaustion.  He could well remember the last time that he rode more than a dozen mounts in a day.  He'd practically fallen asleep at the dinner table.  He smiled at the memory.

"Joe, wait here.  I'll be right back with Sport."

"O.K."  His brother's hoarse whisper quickened his steps.  Joe needed to get home.

He brought Sport to the shed door and called to Joe.  After a few moments, Joe wearily shuffled out, leading Cochise.  Adam took the pony's reins and tied them to his saddle.  Joe was leaning on Sport now.  Adam noticed that he wasn't putting any weight on his right leg if he could help it.

"Joe.  Give me your hand."  

Adam took his brother's outstretched hand and pulled him up.  He felt Joe tremble, and the boy moaned a little as Adam gathered him close.  Joe's legs were now against Sport's flanks, and he was straddling the horse facing his brother.  He laid his head against Adam's chest and threaded his arms around his older brother's middle, clutching his belt.  Adam hugged him tightly with one arm, and then gathered the reins one-handed, clicking his tongue for Sport to head home.  He began to sing a tune that Marie had taught him, and that he knew was a favorite of Joe's.  Within a minute, he felt his little brother relax in sleep, his body limp against his chest, and his arms falling away.  Adam tightened his grip on the boy and continued to sing softly.  The song was a favorite of his as well.  As he sang, he felt his eyes well up again in remorse.  "I'm sorry, buddy."  He whispered, kissing his brother's forehead.  He blinked furiously to clear his vision.  He tilted his head up and looked at the twilight sky.  He could see one star overhead, and he made a promise to it.  "Marie.  I said I'd take care of him, and I try.  But I will be more patient with him, Ma.  Please help him to be more patient with me, too."

Hoss and Pa had come out on the porch when they heard Sport's distinctive gait.

"Adam!  Is he hurt?"

"No.  Well, he's sore, I think, mostly.  Pa, I think he's just done in."

He watched his father tenderly take the sleeping boy from his arms.  Adam then gladly turned the reins over to Hoss who had volunteered to stable the horses.  He caught his middle brother's worried glance toward the house.

"He'll be O.K., Hoss.  It's nothing that some liniment and rest won't take care of, really."

Reassured, Hoss turned and led the horses into the barn.

Adam followed his father into the house.  He'd lost his appetite for the moment.  He had felt sick earlier when he realized how badly he'd misjudged his baby brother—now he was just tired.  He looked around the main room and saw Pa sitting with Joe in his big leather chair.  

Hop Sing ranted in Cantonese and slammed utensils.  He was looking for the proper herbs for Joseph's bath.  They would reduce the swelling in his leg and quickly ease the boy's discomfort.

"Adam, come and warm yourself."  Ben said quietly, still looking down at his youngest son's face.  Joe lay sprawled on his lap, his head resting on Ben's shoulder and his legs draped over the right armrest.

"Adam.  What happened?"  Where was Joseph?"  There was no accusation in Pa's voice, but Adam winced at the recrimination from his own conscience.

"He was at the corral with the horses, Pa."  He swallowed nervously.  "Clem said he rode seventeen today."

Ben sat forward suddenly and Joe moaned in protest.  "Shhh.  Son.  It's all right, Joseph.  Pa's got you."

Ben looked up at Adam when Joe stilled.  He was furious.  "Seventeen?"  He hissed.  "Seventeen broncs?  How many times did he fall?  Adam.  You should know better than to let him try that on his first day."

"Pa.  I gave specific instructions that Clem would send Joe back after one fall.  One fall, Pa.  I thought Joe might last through part of one more ride, not stick like a tick to seventeen."

"He…he didn't get bucked off?"

"Not once, Clem said."

"But…how is that possible?"

"Pa.  I think that he's a natural."  Ben looked up quickly when he heard the pride in Adam's voice.  He smiled slightly at his eldest.  "I think that he's a genuine horse tamer, Pa.  I watched him on one this morning—a big black stallion.  It was amazing.  Clem said he'd never seen anything like it, and I know that I never have.  Anyway, Pa, he's just real tired.  That last bronc rubbed him against the fence.  His right leg's pretty swollen…"

"So is his hand, son, and it's bleeding some."

Adam leaned over and examined each of his brother's hands.  They were beyond filthy, but his brother's left palm was also crossed with blisters in the pattern of the leather reins he'd wrapped so tightly so many times today.  Between his thumb and index finger, the blisters had been rubbed raw and blood still oozed slowly from the raw flesh.  "Pa…" Adam whispered, horrified. 

"Son.  He'll be all right.  You know that he will.  This hand just shows what a stubborn little cuss he is.  I was sitting here thinking…"

"About his Ma?"

Ben looked startled.  "How did you know?"

"I guess because I can't ever look at Joe lately and not be reminded of Marie.  He favors her more each day, Pa."

"Yes, he certainly does."

"She'd be proud of him.  I mean, for today, for what he did."

Ben tenderly kissed his youngest son's dirty face.  "Yes.  I believe that she would."

Hop Sing bustled in carrying a bowl and a bucket of steaming water.  With great gentleness, he cleaned Joe's face and hands, and then carefully spread ointment on the broken blisters.  Joe didn't stir.  "Lay him here, Mr. Cartwright."  Hop Sing ordered.

Everyone knew who really ran the ranch, Adam thought, amused at how quickly his father complied with the little cook's directive.

Joe lay on the setee nearest the fire.  As Hop Sing shifted the boy to examine his leg, Joe's left hand slipped off his chest and struck the floor.  Joe's eyes flew open at the unexpected pain, and he cried out.  It was the cry of a tired child, and Adam was on his knees at his side, ever more quickly than Pa.

"Adam.."  Joe whimpered.  "It hurts…my hand, my leg."  His eyes were full of tears and his voice was cracked and hoarse.  When he saw his Pa, he levered himself up on his right hand.  "Papa…I..I'm sorry, Pa.  I didn't mean to be so late."

He was shaking with the effort of moving and Ben quickly knelt by Adam and cradled his youngest close. "It's all right, son."

"You're not mad?  You're not…not going to punish me, Papa?"

Hoss had come from the barn and he was standing behind the couch, watching his Pa.  He caught Adam's eye, and they shared a concerned glance.  Joe's voice sounded weak; he was so tired.

"I don't think that it's necessary to punish you, son.  You look like you have put yourself through enough punishment already."

Joe slumped back down in relief.  "Thanks, Papa."  He wiped his face against Ben's sleeve to clear his eyes.

Ben's own eyes filled at Joe's use of 'Papa'.  It had been a few years since he'd heard Joseph say it.  Little Joe had begun to copy Hoss and Adam, and had called him 'Pa' since his tenth birthday.  Ben was surprised at the feelings that the word evoked in him, and he blinked rapidly to clear his swimming vision.

"Lil Joe's bath ready now."  Hop Sing said briskly.  "He need clean leg.  Leg very swollen."  Joe's leg was turning a bluish black by his knee, and the thigh muscle looked bunched up, somehow.  It was swollen and had bled a little near his knee.  Joe's face twisted when Hop Sing manipulated his leg, but he bit down on his lip and didn't make a sound.

At Hop Sing's direction, Hoss leaned over the couch and plucked Joe off as easily as he would pick up a pillow.  "Come on short stuff.  I heered all about yer ride today from Clem.  He's out thar in the bunk house holdin' forth 'bout how yer the best bronc buster he's ever seen."  He winked at Little Joe.

They all followed Hop Sing to the bathhouse.  He'd filled the bathtub with water, and a pungent fragrance rose with the steam.

"Ya cookin' somethin' out here, Hop Sing?"  Hoss chuckled.

"Only cook swelling out.  Put boy in water.  Aloe in water.  It help the boy."

Joe had fallen asleep again and Hoss could feel the heat from his young brother.  "Pa.  I think he's fevered."

Ben placed a hand on Joe's forehead.  The boy felt hot to him, too.  "Hop Sing.  Tell Clem to come here, please."

In a minute, Clem stood before him.  Adam and Hoss had already put Joe in the tub.  Adam was gently cleaning him while Hoss held him up.  Amazingly, Joe was still asleep.  Clem shifted his feet.  "Is the kid all right, boss?  He did good today."

Ben smiled.  "So I hear.  I want to talk with you about it later, but I need you to send one of the fellows into town for Dr. Martin."

Clem interrupted.  "He's hurt?  Oh, Mr. Cartwright.  I'm sure sorry.  I didn't intend for that to .."

Ben placed his hands on the foreman's shoulders and shook him slightly.  "No, Clem.  He's got a fever, and his knee is pretty bruised from that last ride.  I just want Paul to check him out.  Send Alan.  He had an easy day today."  
"Yessir.  And boss?"  
"Yes, Clem?"

"I can hardly wait for ya ta see him.  He's really somethin'"  Clem's eyes softened as he looked past Ben to the brothers.  "It sure is a treat to see the way they take care of each other.  Yer a lucky man, boss.  Ya got three treasures thar."

"Thanks, Clem."  Ben clapped him on the shoulder as he turned to go.  "You're a good man, Clem.  I'm lucky to have you, too."

"Night, boss.  I'll send Alan straight away."

By the time Doc. Martin arrived at the Ponderosa, Joseph had been in bed a couple of hours, and it was full dark.  Ben met his friend at the door. 

"Alan said that your young scamp was banged up a bit today?"  Paul smiled at his friend.  Ben looked tired, but not too worried.

"Yes, Paul.  I'm sorry to get you out this late.  It probably could have waited until morning.  I just…"

"Got concerned?"  Paul grinned.  Everyone knew how Ben felt about his sons—Joseph in particular.  "It's all right, Ben.  The hours go with the job.  Where is little Joe?"

"He's in his bed."  As they walked to the stairs, Paul's grin widened at the sight of Hoss stretched out in front of the fire.  "Guess you can't tote him upstairs to his bed anymore, can you Ben?"

Ben grinned back.  "Not for a double handful of years, Paul.  It takes Adam and I to do that now."

"Where is Adam?"

"He better be in his bed.  He had a hard day as well, mending fence.  Since you're here, I'd like you to check him too."

"What's the matter?"  
"He's been too tired lately.  Irritable as well.  I never know if he's sick or needs a vacation—you know Adam."

"That boy never complains."

"Yes.  I only know he's ill when he drops on me—you probably think that I'm an old mother hen, Paul."

Paul stopped on the landing and waited until Ben turned to face him.  "No, Ben, you are all these young men have, and you've done a wonderful job with each one of them.  Give yourself some credit, here."  He studied Ben's face.  "Looks like you could use some sleep, too.  Doctor's orders."

"After.."

"I know.  After we check on youngest and eldest.  I know you won't go near your bed until you know that they're all right."

They walked to Joseph's door, and Ben opened it, then he stopped abruptly.  Paul slipped around him, looked toward the bed, and then began chuckling quietly.

Adam and Joe were in the bed, both sound asleep.  Joe's head was pillowed on his brother's shoulder and Adam's arms circled the boy protectively.  "Well, Ben.  It's convenient for me to have you arrange for both patients to be in the same bed."  He smiled softly at the tender expression on his friend's face. Ben walked to the bed and sat down by Adam.

"Let's check you out, young man."  Paul uncovered Joe's leg and began probing gently.  He frowned.  "Ben.  Bring that lamp here, and turn it up all the way, please."  Paul squeezed the swollen flesh above Joe's right knee, and the boy moaned and shifted.  "Hold his leg still, Ben."

Adam was awake now, and he tightened his arms circling Joe.  He began to whisper to his little brother.  "It's all right, little buddy.  Dr. Martin needs to check out your leg.  It's O.K., relax.  Big brother's got you.  Relax, boy."

Joe muttered, his hands came up to clutch at Adam's arms.  "It hurts…"

Paul patted Joe's leg and looked up.  Joe was feverish.  He could feel the heat baking out of him, and it was no wonder.  

Adam whispered.  "Is he O.K?  He feels very hot, Doc."

"Yes.  He's got quite a fever going, but it should clear up quickly when I remove the source of the infection."  At Ben and Adams' intent look, he explained further.  "Seems Joe has jammed a sizable slice of the fence rail into his leg here."  He motioned to the area above the boy's right knee.  "It's a big old splinter, Ben, and I'll need to cut it out of there right now.  I'm glad you called me.  As you can see, it's already made him mighty sick.  Wood can cause a bad infection, and it sure has in Joe's case.  I'll need you to hold him down, Ben, Adam.  I'm out of laudanum, and this is going to hurt him.  Adam, if you'll just keep that position, you can help restrain him.  Just hold him as still as you can.  I'll try to be quick."

Paul laid a towel under Joe's knee, and then warned them both to hold the boy firmly.  At their nods, he began.

Joe had dozed off again.  In his fevered dream, he was wandering in the woods, looking for a familiar landmark.  He was so hot and scared.  Suddenly, he lost his footing and slid down into a gully.  He felt the snap of the old trap slice into his leg and the pain shot through him.  His knee was on fire!  He arched his back and screamed.  Oh God.  Where was Pa?  Or Adam?  Or Hoss?  He was going to die out here, in these woods, all alone.  He screamed until he ran out of breath.  He was in agony.  He could feel the sharp teeth dig into his leg, and the pain seemed to travel in waves of fire to his hip and down to his knee.  He could feel the tears that he couldn't control wash down his face as he writhed and moaned.  He called for his Papa, his brothers, for anyone to come and rescue him.

Adam and Ben did their best to hold Joseph down, and both prayed that Paul would finish quickly.  It was so hard to watch the boy suffer.  His head was thrown back and the tendons in his neck stood out in sharp relief as he screamed for them to stop.  He was crying in his sleep.  Ben almost let his leg go when Joseph wailed for his 'Papa' over and over in a broken breathless voice.   He had screamed himself hoarse.  Ben bowed his head to hide his tears.

Paul grunted.  "I've almost got it.  Hang on."

Adam gulped back his own tears.  How could he help Joe?  He'd been whispering to him, but Joe seemed to be caught in a nightmare, and Adam's words weren't reaching him. 'Well, if words won't work, maybe this will.'  Adam was embarrassed, but he began to sing anyway.

Ben looked up when he heard Adam's clear baritone voice.  Adam was singing?  He was singing a lullaby that Marie often sang to the boys at bedtime.  Ben's eyes misted over at the memories the song brought to his mind.  In his mind's eye, he could see twelve-year-old Adam holding baby Joseph, while Marie rocked a sleepy Eric, and sang to her boys.  He smiled at Adam, and nodded his encouragement.

Joe had stopped struggling, had stopped trying to wrench his leg away.  Incredibly, he was smiling a little.  "Mama?"  He whispered hoarsely.  Adam hugged him tightly and continued to sing.

"There.  That's all of it."  Paul's voice betrayed his relief as he held up a chunk of wood at least seven inches long.  Ben felt wetness near his leg and saw the incision that Paul had made was still draining fluid onto the towel.

"He probably had a cup of infection built up around that wood.  It could have been very serious if we'd left it longer.  He should be fine now, Ben.  I've cleaned it up some tonight, and I'll be back out to check it tomorrow.  Adam's check up can wait until then, too.  I don't want to disturb Joseph any more tonight, and I think he needs Adam right where he is.  If Joe's fever should go back up, send someone for me, but I see that it's already breaking."  He shook his head in amazement.  "He's got an iron constitution, Ben."

Adam had stopped singing to listen to the doctor.  He had brought one hand up to caress Joe's curls and had felt for himself the wetness on his brother's brow.  He felt Joe shift a little and he whispered.  "Are you awake?"

"Yes.  I was dreamin' Adam."  He shuddered and Adam squeezed him gently.

"Seemed more like a nightmare to me, buddy."

He felt Joe nod.  "But, Adam.  I dreamed Mama was there at the end.  She was singing to me.  It was nice."

Adam glanced over to the doorway.  Pa had returned from walking the doctor to his buggy.  He was standing there, enjoying the quiet conversation between his sons.  Amazingly, Hoss still slept on.  Adam could hear his snores echoing up from below.  He had been oblivious to the commotion upstairs.

Adam prompted.  "You heard your Mama sing to you?"

Ben watched his eldest hold his youngest close while the boy thought about Adam's question.  Joe's eyes were dipping closed by the time he answered.  "I know.  It couldn't have been Mama.  It couldn't have been her.  I think that it was you, Adam.  Was it you?  You sang to me on the way home from the corral too."  Joe's eyes were closed now as he whispered again.  "Was it you?"

Adam kissed his curly head.  "Yes, little buddy.  I sang to you."

Joe snuggled closer to Adam and smiled softly.  He sighed out his last waking words so softly that Ben almost didn't hear him.

"Thanks, Adam.  I love you.  You sang me back home."

The End


End file.
